


east, west, home's best

by taizi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chamber of Secrets, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: You can never have too many brothers, Ron decides, for the very first time in his life. And there's always room in the Burrow for another Weasley, even if only an honorary one.





	east, west, home's best

****By the end of July, Ron's fit to be tied.

All of his owls have gone unanswered, without a word from Harry Potter all summer. Dinner conversation always wings back around to the subject, like clockwork—

“Mum, dad, _please_ can't we go and make sure he's alright? He wouldn't ignore me like this, I think something's wrong.”

Mum looks conflicted, concern for the boy she had only met for a few moments at war with what looks like the obvious response: “Ron, dear, I'm sure he's very busy. Loads of friends to talk to, and his family probably missed him while he was away.”

But Ron says, immediately, “But he hasn't replied to Hermione, either. And his family hates him, mum. You saw his uncle at King's Cross!”

Mum subsides right away, looking troubled, but dad says, “What your mother means to say, Ron, is that—well, it might be that—”

He's looking to tell Ron in a way that won't hurt him that someone as famous as Harry Potter has better things to do than keep up a friendship with a social nobody, but George finds himself shaking his head before dad can find the words. Even Percy speaks up:

“You didn't see him at Christmas last year,” he tells their parents, one of the precious few occasions he finds something to talk about that isn't himself. “We spent the whole holiday together. And at meals and lessons, he's never apart from Ron. He's a shy thing, really. Our housemates like him a lot, but he doesn't have many close friends.”

Mum and dad share a look, and tentatively start discussing plans to make contact with Harry's family if he hasn't replied soon. They don't notice Ron shove away from the table and leave without eating. Fred and George share a look, pocket a few biscuits each, and follow.

He's writing something furiously on a scrap of parchment in the cluttered foyer, Errol dangling precariously from his shoulder. His expression is frustrated and desperate, and George can't help remembering how worried Ron was, with Harry in the hospital wing at the end of last term.

It's a new look on him. Ginny is the only girl, and gets special attention for that, and she's a tough enough kid on her own—Ron's never really had to play the part of older brother before, and look after someone else.

A new look, but not a bad one.

“Now what's all this, then,” Fred says, leaning against the wall on Ron's left side. “Not planning any funny business, I hope?”

“What do you care?” Ron grumbles, folding the parchment haphazardly when he's done. He mumbles instructions to their owl, asking him to get the letter to Hermione, and only looks up when Errol has the parchment clamped in his wizened beak. “You get into trouble all the time.”

“Ah-ah, Ronnie,” George says importantly, leaning on the side opposite his twin. “What dear Fred meant to say, of course, was that we hope you aren't planning any funny business without _us._ ”

“We really are the best help you could hope for,” Fred adds, “if it's trouble you're looking to get yourself into. As you said, we're old hat at it by now.”

Ron looks up at them, all wide eyes and surprise, and George would shake his head if he knew it wouldn't make Ron scowl and turn away.

Twelve years old now, and Ron still has the audacity to look surprised that one of his big brothers might break a rule or twenty for him. And this is after Charlie, as the elder Weasley told the twins in an amused, disbelieving letter, helped him arrange transport for an illegal baby dragon when Ron was an ickle first year! After  _that,_ Ron can't think sneaking out for a little roadtrip is anything to write home about. George and Fred would do just about anything for him if he asked.

And, maybe, they would do as much for Harry, too. Quidditch teammate, Ron's best friend, young and impressionable housemate—there are plenty of reasons they could lean on as to why, if anyone were to take a sudden interest.

But George thinks the real reason is most likely the most obvious one; that it's hard to look at Harry Potter—the boy who spent all of Christmas day in a Weasley sweater, who played in the snow with them for hours and nodded off against Fred's shoulder in front of the roaring Gryffindor hearth—and not want to do something nice for him.

 

* * *

 

Fred is certain he's been this angry one or two times before, but—try as he might—he really can't think of when those times were.

Harry peers at them from behind _bars_ on his bedroom window, as though he's some sort of criminal. His eyes are impossibly green and lamplike when the Weasleys make short work of the window, and pick the locks on his door, and steal into the dark Muggle house to find his school things. They can hear Ron whispering to Harry as they go, telling him not to be stupid, of course he's coming home with them, hurry up and get his things together.

It's a nice enough place, Fred thinks as he passes through the sitting room, that Harry's room shouldn't be so bare.

George gives him a sidelong look. Fred shakes his head. It wouldn't do to plant mischief or mayhem here and get Harry into trouble. There's a sickening sense between them as the events of the evening resolve themselves—a rescue, they had called it laughingly on the way here, a heroic kidnapping.

It would have been nice if those jokes could have stayed jokes. Fred prefers jokes over most things, and certainly over taking anything seriously that he doesn't have to.

But this, he thinks, he really, really has to.

“C'mon, Freddie,” George says suddenly, sotto voce. “Sooner the four of us get out of here, the better.”

It doesn't go quite without a hitch, but they get away together in the end—with Harry safely tangled in Ron's arms as Fred steers the car up over silver-washed clouds, the brightest thing in the whole night sky when he smiles.

George clambers into the front seat beside Fred with another sidelong look. Fred nods this time.

Now that they have him, it's gonna be hard work for anybody who thinks they'll be able to take Harry away again. Just let those Muggles try to steal him back.

Fred and his twin like jokes more than most things, but even a good laugh can be turned into a weapon. And in that light, Fred and George have a whole arsenal, waiting for a good reason to be used.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry's place was nice enough, as far as Muggle houses go, but he looks at the Burrow like it's made of goblin gold. Clambers clumsily out of the Ford after Ron and stares around their yard like he needs a few hours to take it all in, those magic lightning eyes wide and awed.

Mum comes out and has a big fit, but she's so happy to see Harry that Ron knows they've got off lightly when she switches tracks to hurry Harry into the house for breakfast. Harry looks as cowed as the rest of them do, for all that he's not the one who got shouted at, and Ron has to all but shepherd him along.

She fills his plate, an unexciting home-cooked meal that Ron thinks he's taken for granted all these years, with the way Harry stares at the arguable mountain of food before him. Ron's mind goes back to the cat-flap on the door of Harry's bedroom, the empty cans of soup on his table, and feels his appetite flee his stomach.

Harry tags along at Ron's elbow when they slouch into the yard for their punishment. He helps them degnome the garden, even though mum said he didn't have to, as though it wouldn't make sense to go anywhere Ron wasn't. The chore turns into more of a game than it usually does with Harry watching so eagerly. 

It feels as though he's slipping into a space they've all stepped aside to make for him. Like he belongs at their lopsided kitchen table, sipping carefully out of a chipped mug too big for his thin hands, looking around at the lot of them with the whole world in his eyes.

The first chance they get, they drag a bunch of extra bedding up the stairs to Ron's room for a nap, since neither of them slept the night before. Since there's hardly enough room on the floor for a proper makeshift bed, Ron just instructs Harry to leave all of it where it is and climb up beside him instead. Harry's small enough that he hardly takes up any room at all, and it feels like being back at school, hearing his yearmates snoring or tossing around in their beds nearby and knowing he's not alone if bad dreams come calling.

It's a good feeling. Better than any protective charm Ron has found yet.

"Hey," Harry whispers suddenly, "I never got to say thanks."

"Don't mention it," Ron says, meaning it. "I told you I wanted you to come stay for the summer. We'll pick you up next year, too, if we have to. Even if mum and dad lock away the car. Me and Fred and George will figure something out. Maybe we can make a plan up with Hermione at school!"

"To kidnap me?" Harry says, amused.

"To kidnap you."

He laughs, and it's like a glittering trophy given sound. Better than anything the Mirror of Erised could have shown him for sure. Ron lays there and feels good about it for a little while, contentment curled up in his chest like a sleeping cat, the room warm and golden with rich afternoon sunlight.

Then Harry says, "Um—can I really stay here until term starts? Your mum said we could get on the train together. It's really okay? I mean, I'm not putting you out or anything?"

Considering his Muggle family had him locked away like an unwanted pet, Ron thinks he knows why Harry's asking. But that doesn't mean he likes it, or that he likes that his friend thinks he has to ask, so he levers himself up on one elbow and retorts, "Didn't you hear me? I wanted you to come over. Of course it's okay. Fred and George have Lee Jordan over all the time. Last summer I thought he'd moved in, he was here so long. And besides, mum loves you. You better stop being so well-mannered, or she'll try to keep you here for good. Not that that'd be a terrible thing—I'd finally have a brother I like."

Harry looks like a book dropped on its spine, pages sprawled open wide for the whole world to see. There's something wistful and wanting on his face, and something gratified behind that, and Ron lays back down properly because it feels like he's looking at a secret. 

You can never have too many brothers, Ron decides, for the very first time in his life. And there's always room in the Burrow for another Weasley, even if only an honorary one. He doesn't think they'd be able to keep Harry, but he doesn't see why the Muggles should get to have him. He wonders if it's something he could ask mum about. He wonders if there's something he could do to make things any better for his best friend. He'd like to, if only he knew where to start.

But for now, at least, Harry is safe beside him, in a house full of people who like him a lot, and he doesn't have to worry about going hungry or getting hurt. It's not much, but maybe it's something, Ron thinks, and follows Harry into sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to the first two harry potter audio books on a long road trip and felt inspired

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Best Served Cold](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212463) by [enchantedsleeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantedsleeper/pseuds/enchantedsleeper)




End file.
